


Things We Left Unsaid

by TiaKisu



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaKisu/pseuds/TiaKisu
Summary: "Paul!” He tries with a little force this time, seeking to get his full attention. “What happened is not your fault. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't grateful.”Some things have been left unsaid. And it's about time that changes.





	Things We Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is pretty random and maybe it is out of character for Hugh to not talk about this or make sure that Paul knows, but Hugh has had a lot to deal with and he is after all not exactly the same person anymore that he was before, so...  
> Anyway. I could have made this darker and more painful for both of them, but I felt like not going into this too deeply. I probably just needed that element of fluff myself. :)
> 
> 17/07/19: I made some smaller changes to the dialogue and wording, and am much happier with this story now. It's still pretty much the same thing, just a better read (hopefully).

Hugh's brows furrow in irritation. The incessant noise of pale fingers thrumming against the edges of the PADD they hold is starting to put his patience to the test.

With his head cushioned on Paul's belly the quick movements reverberate through him, which as he thinks is quite distracting when trying to relax after a long shift. For a second he contemplates just sitting this out, but the drumming won't stop and so, with a defeated sigh, Hugh puts his book down and rolls over.  
  
“Spill it!”  
  
The softness in his voice belies the blunt words. He knows Paul well enough. Most likely, Paul is not even aware of what he is doing and that he shows any signs of distress in the first place, but Hugh has taken note of them all day:  
The way Paul was strangely withdrawn when they got up together. How he didn't engage in the lively conversation that he and Tilly had during their (for once) shared lunch-break. How he has been on edge ever since they both returned home from their shifts. Something is troubling him and he tries to sort it out for himself.

Some things just never change.  
  
Hugh looks up and straight into blue eyes, watches Paul freeze - a questioning look on his face.  
He wonders how Hugh can tell, how he can know, and not for the first time Hugh is reminded of that his partner, for all his ingenuity and acumen, can be incredibly dense at times.  
  
Hugh cannot help but find it endearing.  
  
“Your fingers, among other things” he clarifies matter-of-factly, a small smile on his lips, then nods towards the hands that were utterly restless just a moment ago. “So spill it.”  
  
Paul's eyes narrow for an instant, some kind of conflict passing through his gaze, before at last his form slumps just that little bit.  
  
“It's,” he starts but then has to make a second attempt, “May brought you back a year ago.”  
  
There's something in his voice that Hugh doesn't recognise, but the information relayed to him is more prominent in his mind right now and so he files the peculiarity away to be dissected later.  
  
He didn't even realise.  
  
“Oh.”   
  
Any other day Hugh would have felt slightly embarrassed in view of his spectacularly ineloquent response, at this point however it is quite literally the only thing he can come up with.  
  
“I didn't say anything because- “ And here Paul suddenly stops.  
  
The drumming returns.  
  
A deep frown edges itself into Paul's features and Hugh finally gets an idea where this is all headed. “You didn't know if I wanted to be reminded of that.”  
  
The silence that follows is all the confirmation Hugh needs. This is certainly not what he expected to deal with today, but it is nothing he can run away from either. And so he rises to a sitting position, tucks one leg underneath him and props himself up against the other, his arms loosely slung around the limb.  
  
“Paul.” How does he even start this?  
  
“No, it's okay. I mean, I'm sorry I brought it up but you asked and-” A shrug passes Paul's shoulders and he looks so terribly small and insecure like this that Hugh's mouth twists in dismay.

“Paul!” He tries with a little force this time, seeking to get his full attention. “What happened, it's not your fault. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn't grateful.”  
  
The moment the words are out, Hugh knows he hit the mark because Paul flinches quite visibly.

It instantly hurts to see that.  
  
“My time in the network, this new body - it's not something I ever wanted for myself, and nothing I like to look back on, but-” He pauses shortly, needs to sort through his thoughts before he can proceed.  
  
Hugh is aware this talk has been long overdue, and maybe he should have questioned it sooner. The fear that lights up in Paul's eyes whenever Hugh is frustrated with something but which he has simply ascribed to being an aftermath of the fight they'd had after his return. A fight Hugh still feels guilty about although they have talked it through many times since their jump into the future, and he makes sure to show Paul each and every day that he doesn't just remember their love but that he feels it again, too.  
  
He never stopped to consider there was another reason for the apprehension.  
  
“Had you not brought me into the network I would have died. Coming back was the hardest thing.” He owes the other man that much honesty, even if watching him appear to diminish in size as he speaks makes Hugh wish he could lie to Paul for once. But now that they started this he will see it through to the end, and there is, after all, more that Paul needs to hear.  
  
“But I would go through all of it again,” he continues, his voice steady and calm and so very warm now although he desperately needs Paul to understand, “to be where I am now. To be _here._ With you. And I'm sorry I never said thank you.”  
  
And indeed - he never had, hadn't he? Caught in his own crisis first, then faced with Paul's injury and the madness that followed in this new time that was now their home he didn't even think about marking this day that was quite essentially an anniversary of his resurrection or rebirth or whatever name he wants to give that.  
And whenever the topic of his return came up between them in the past months, they mostly talked about the grief it had caused Hugh in the beginning, and how detached from the world and everyone around him he had felt – how utterly alone. These talks had been a necessary healing process for both of them, and Hugh will never forget the many hours that Paul spent just listening to him and offering quiet support, giving him exactly what he needed. But he had never considered that Paul might interpret the stories he shared, his nightmares and those rare moments when he is still being reminded of how his body is in fact not the one he was born with as a sign that given the choice, he would have preferred not to have been saved in the first place.  
  
The realisation of his own ignorance makes something tighten painfully inside his chest and he responds instinctively to that feeling by reaching out and capturing Paul's left hand in his own, interlacing their fingers in a gentle move that became second nature to him years ago.  
  
“Paul, I need you to listen to me.” He shifts again, brings his free hand up to find the nape of Paul's neck, applying the smallest amount of pressure to make sure he understands that Hugh is being serious. “Without you I wouldn't have had this chance at a future. I wouldn't have gotten to witness you listen to Kasseelian Opera for hours and actually enjoy it, or to watch you make a fool of yourself trying to beat Michael at chess.”  
  
The latter he strews in here because it always makes Paul roll his eyes in mock affront, for really he didn't do so bad against her, and while the anecdote doesn't elicit the usual response there is a quiet snort that Paul cannot quite suppress. It makes Hugh smile a little triumphantly.  
  
“There's a whole life I would have missed out on. But most importantly, I would have never had this time with you. I'm sorry I didn't realise you needed to hear this, but _thank you_ Paul.”  
  
In an attempt to convey this truth in every way possible he leans in to brush a gentle kiss against soft lips, savouring the taste that is so uniquely Paul.  
  
“Thank you for holding on to me even when I was willing to let go.”  
  
He looks directly into his eyes now, eyes that are wide open and drinking him in. And Hugh exposes everything to them.  
  
Right here, right now, they are what they had always been and Hugh could never be more grateful for that if he tried. Something of that must have finally reached Paul, too, because the previously pent up tension seems to leak from his body right under his gaze. His shoulders sink with relief that he either doesn't care or doesn't manage to hide, and he bends over to let their fore-heads touch.

There is a moment of heavy silence before at last Paul speaks.  
  
“Does that mean I get to celebrate your birthday twice now?”  
  
It's but a whisper, a tiny thing between a breathy laugh and a choked plea. And Hugh knows exactly what Paul is truly asking him.

 _Is it okay to remember this day? Is it okay to be happy?_  
  
For all the ways in which Paul has changed for him, some things will always stay the same. It's fortunate he has known for years now how to read between his partner's lines and so Hugh smiles broadly, honestly in response.  
  
“Only if there are presents involved.”  
  
Paul blinks. Once. Twice. Then he catches up. And as if a spell was finally broken Paul's lips bend as well.  
  
“Greedy bastard.”  
  
Hugh's hearty laugh rings out after Paul's half-grumbled response, the muttered complain rendered completely ineffective by the all too obvious fondness in his voice and Hugh's amusement.  
  
“Takes one to know one,” Hugh chirrups with as much teasing as he can muster before he steals another brief kiss, only to resume his earlier position thereafter – plopping his head down on Paul's decidedly comfortable midsection and grasping the previously abandoned book.  
  
“I expect a gift before midnight by the way, so you might want to come up with something, seeing it's one of my birthdays today.”  
  
The low rumble that travels along his back right after is every bit as distracting as the drumming had been, but for entirely perfect reasons. Paul is chuckling to himself, his PADD now lying forgotten next to him while the cogs in his brain start turning.

Hugh knows he is cooking up something in this brilliant mind of his, and as he feels any and all of Paul's earlier restlessness be replaced by determination to meet the challenge he has just been presented with, Hugh finds another truth. For himself this time.  
  
Sighing contentedly he wriggles to fit more snugly into his spot against Paul's side, suddenly giddy with anticipation.  
  
It has all been worth it indeed. Every single moment of pain and fear and anger. Every hour he spent alone, frightened and feeling lonely. To be where he is now, to be this happy, he would endure it all again. And for that alone, he thinks, a celebration is perhaps indeed in order.


End file.
